Outskirts of Nowhere
by Becks Rylynn
Summary: SPN/OTH, What happens when your only hope is the life you left behind and the people you tried to forget? Dean/Haley, Sam/Brooke. A Rewrite of my most popular story. DISCONTINUED!
1. At Your Throat

_AN: All right, so this was one of my first stories and probably one of the more popular ones. So, I have decided to rewrite it and make it even better and hopefully, this time it will be finished. It's an alternate universe, obviously, and it doesn't follow along with anything that happened in season six of One Tree Hill or season four of Supernatural._

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, One Tree Hill or any of the characters. I also do not own _Going Under _by Evanescence.

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**Outskirts of Nowhere**

_Written by Becks Rylynn_

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**[Chapter One: At Your Throat]**

_don't want your hand this time - i'll save myself  
maybe i'll wake up for once (wake up for once)  
not tormented daily defeated by you  
just when i thought i'd reached the bottom  
i'm dying again  
_**-evanescence, **_**going under**_

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Pain, pain and more pain.

That was the only thing that ran through Brooke Davis' mind as a heavy, strong fist connected with her face over and over again. It all hurt; everything in her, every bone in her body. She figured this must be what being tortured felt like. Eventually, the fist beating her down into nothing moved to her stomach, and then suddenly, he was kicking her in the gut and reaching down trying to make a grab for her clothes, probably to rip them off. Oh, god, this creep was going to rape her. As if beating her up wasn't degrading enough now he was going to make her _his?_ Oh, hell no. After several minutes of protesting like the weak little girl everyone thought she was, her hands clawing at his face, she felt anger well up inside of her until she couldn't take it anymore. Screw the consequences; this was one time the real Brooke Davis needed to make an appearance. She lifted her leg, ignoring the pain from the deep gash near her thigh and shoved her four inch spike heel right into the intruder's chest. With a cry of pain he fell back onto the floor and she pushed herself to her feet, groaning slightly at the pain in her ribs as her mind worked hard to remember everything she had been taught about self defense.

The attacker growled, probably pissed at the fact that she had decided to fight back, and got to his feet, swinging a large meaty fist at her already bruised face. She caught his fist easily and threw it back at him, momentarily surprised by her own strength. Huh. Adrenaline really was a powerful drug, wasn't it? Despite the pain she was experiencing all over her body, she let a smirk fall easily across her face and lifted herself onto a table, sending a kick to his chest. ''You picked the wrong girl to rob.'' Her voice sounded calm and eerie. Most definitely dangerous. He made a move for her, but she sent a right hook to his jaw, sending him stumbling back, partly from shock. He recovered quickly and in an instant, he had reached into his pocket and produced a knife. A really freaking nasty looking knife. He reached out and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her to him. She let out a yelp of shock, but then her eyes hardened and she went for him again. This time he didn't let her get to him as he effortlessly sent her flying through the air and she landed in a heap near the cash register.

Well, this was certainly not going like he planned. This was supposed to be an easy job. Brooke Davis was a skinny little woman who looked like anyone could snap her in half. His heartless and emotionless eyes looked at her on the floor, dazed and confused but still conscious and he growled, wiping blood from his lip. His boots thumped on the floor as he moved towards her raising the knife, toothy grin working its way across his face. ''Say goodnight, bitch.''

The next part happened so fast it was like it was happening in fast forward. She threw her foot out, the guy went down, she grabbed the knife from his hands and the next thing she knew she was standing over his body and the knife was embedded deep in his chest. Because she had put it there. Letting out a breath that hurt her ribs, Brooke tilted her head to the side, her face emotionless and unfeeling much like his had been as the punches and kicks had rained down on her. ''Goodnight, bitch.''

Of course, then she realized she was in the middle of a place that was all windows and she had just killed someone. That was when the panic set in. Looking around nervously, as if she expected the police to jump out and arrest her, she reached down and grabbed the guy's collar, dragging him behind the counter and out of sight.

After she had cleaned up the trail of blood on the floor and made sure the front door was locked, she disappeared out the back door and into the night. The night sky was filled with sparkling stars and the cold air stung her fresh wounds but she kept walking, her head down in an attempt to hide the tears. These kinds of things were only supposed to happen in horror movies; they weren't supposed to happen in real life. Especially not to her. Never to her.

Swallowing hard against the tears and bile in the back of her throat, she continued to stumble down the streets, one question floating around in her head like a tornado. _What the hell am I supposed to do now?_

_

* * *

_

Haley James-Scott was torn from her peaceful slumber by the sound of her cell phone ringing. Ugh, how rude. She had been dreaming about - wait, let's not go there. Blinking, she groggily ran a hand over her face and yawned.

Beside her, her husband groaned and rolled over to face her, barely even bothering to open his eyes. ''What time is it?''

''Uh,'' Haley moved her eyes to the clock and grimaced. ''1:30. It's okay, you go back to sleep, I'll take care of it.'' Carefully slipping out of bed, Haley grabbed her phone and opened the doors to the balcony, shivering in the sudden onslaught of cold night air. The caller ID displayed her best friend's name and she frowned flipping the phone open and pressing it to her ear. ''Brooke?'' What could Brooke possibly want at 1:30 in the morning?

_''Hi.''_

Something like fear crept into Haley's stomach at the sound of her best friend's voice and she gripped the edge of the railing. ''Brooke? What's wrong? What happened?''

_''Haley, I know it's late, but I...I really need your help. I-I think I'm in trouble.''_

''Where are you?''

_''Right outside.''_

''Five minutes.'' Haley flipped her phone shut and almost tore the door open trying to get inside. Quickly and quietly, she slipped into jeans and a t-shirt and gently shook her husband awake. ''Nathan,'' she grinned at his sleepy frown and gently touched his arm. ''Listen, Brooke...really needs a friend right now...I don't know, something with her mom, so I'm gonna go spend the night there, okay?'' Wow. It probably should have frightened her how good she was at lying but she figured after four years of keeping up the biggest lie she could deal with a tiny little white lie like that.

''Now?'' Nathan squinted up at her and she could practically feel the distrust in his blue eyes. ''Hales, it's the middle of the night.''

''I know, but she really needs me, okay? I'll call in sick tomorrow, but you need to make sure Jamie gets to school, okay?''

''Sure. I love you.''

Haley smiled and leaned down, kissing him gently. ''Love you too.''

* * *

She stepped out the door and looked around. No Brooke. Frown deepening, Haley turned around and locked the door, muttering something under her breath. When she turned around a dirty, bruised and bloody girl was standing in front of her, wearing what could have once been designer clothes. Haley bit back a scream and put her hand over her heart. ''Jesus.'' That's when she saw the familiar brown eyes staring back at her. ''Oh, my god.'' She squinted and took a step closer to the girl. ''Brooke?''

Brooke tried to smile through her pain, but only succeeded in grimacing. She gave up trying to smile and took a limping step closer to Haley like she was searching for someone to catch her should she collapse. Her wild eyes darted around the darkened neighborhood when she heard a siren wailing in the distance. The fear that the police would come for her was overwhelming and her heart was beating so fast she was sure it would give out at any minute. It was times like these she really wished her sister was here. But that was a road that was better off not traveled.

''Brooke, oh, god, Brooke, what the hell happened to you?'' Haley reached out a hand to touch Brooke's cheek, wincing when her friend did. ''Who did this?''

''I don't...I don't...'' Brooke took a long shuddering breath and wrapped her bruised arms around herself, ignoring the pain in her ribs. Or at least trying to. Off the top of her head she could name at least ten people who might want her dead but right now, all she could think of was the pain and the dead body on the floor of her shop probably staining the hardwood floors with his blood. ''Haley,'' tears stung her eyes and she looked up to meet her friend's eyes, hoping they could give her some amount of comfort. ''I…I killed someone.''

* * *

Haley put her hands on her hips and swallowed back a grimace as she looked down at the dead body on the floor. It would never get easier, would it? No matter how many times she looked at dead bodies, she would never get used to it. Forcing back a sigh, she turned her eyes to Brooke, her eyes hard and in control. ''You leave your fingerprints anywhere?'' Her voice was low and calm, but held urgency. When a car drove by, headlights on full blast; Haley looked up sharply and swallowed.

At the question Brooke laughed dryly and gave her friend an ''are you stupid or something'' look. ''Haley, this is _my_ store. My fingerprints are everywhere.''

The other woman bent down and pulled the knife from his chest wiping it off on his black jacket and sliding it into her purse so calmly it was almost as if she had done it before. Almost as if she had been doing it her whole life. With the murder weapon held securely in her purse for now (she would throw it in the river later) she carefully pulled the black ski mask off his face and studied the dead man's face carefully and critically, not flinching once. Mild mannered English teacher by day, criminal and accessory to murder by night. ''I don't recognize him, do you?''

Brooke took a breath and slid her eyes to the dead body on the floor. ''Nope.'' Unable to stare at the man she had killed, she looked away and clasped her hands nervously. How could she have done that? How could she have taken someone's life? She was just as bad as he was. Worse. He hadn't gotten a chance to kill anyone...that she knew of. Just hours ago she had thought Bitchtoria was the worst of her problems. Now she was a murderer. Funny how quickly things can change.

''Hey.'' The look on Brooke's face was easy to recognize, it was the same look Haley herself had worn all those years ago when she had...she shook her head, trying to shake the memories away and knelt in front of Brooke, taking her hands. ''Brooke, honey, look at me.'' When Brooke's tortured gaze had met hers, Haley smiled in that way only mothers could and offered words of comfort. ''You had to do it, you know that right? You didn't have a choice; he was going to kill you. It was self defense. This guy was _bad news,_ Brooke. Who knows how many people he's hurt, how many people he was going to hurt. Who knows how many families he's torn apart. You did the only thing you could. Hell, you probably did the world a favor.''

''But I _killed_ him, Haley.'' Brooke's voice sounded so weak, almost childlike, fragile and broken. And she wanted to believe the words Haley was saying but it was so hard when the evidence that she was just like him was lying at her feet, eyes wide open but unseeing, blood still oozing from the wound in his chest.

Haley stood and looked away suddenly growing cold and detached. ''Sometimes, that's the only option.'' A painful minute passed where Haley was silent and Brooke was wondering what the hell she was talking about. Haley was the first to recover, clearing her throat and turning back to the body. ''Okay, come on, we've got to get him out of here.''

* * *

With sweat glistening on her forehead and the scent of dirt hanging thick in the air like a disease, Haley threw the last pile of dirt on top of the shallow grave the body was resting in and ran her hand across her forehead, effectively smearing dirt on her skin as she drew in a deep breath. ''I need a fucking drink.'' Despite the fact that she was _Haley James-Scott_ and swearing was usually a big no-no for her, she paid no attention to her slip of the tongue and tossed the shovel - very ungracefully - on the ground.

Beside her, Brooke rolled her eyes and shivered in the frigid September air, her hazel eyes glancing nervously around the woods, the thick trees looking like monsters in the dark. Oh, how she hated the woods. ''Why did we have to bury him here?'' She grumbled under her breath as she moved a step and stumbled when her heel got wedged in the dirt. ''Why couldn't we have just thrown his body in the river?''

''Because he could have washed up.'' Haley spoke slowly, like she was talking to a small child and plopped down on the damp grass. She was tired and cold and the sun would be coming up soon. Not to mention she really needed to get Brooke some medical attention. ''I'll come back tomorrow night and finish him off,'' she murmured, trying to delay standing up because her legs were already sore.

''Finish him off?'' Brooke wrinkled her nose in confusion, but then her eyes widened as realization struck. ''Oh, you mean,'' she imitated striking a match and tossing it on something, earning a nod and a small laugh from Haley.

''Yeah. Just in case, you know.''

Brooke sighed and ran her hand through her hair, grimacing when she hit a bruise on her forehead. ''Ow.''

Haley stood and wiped dirt off her jeans. ''We really should get you cleaned up.'' Without another word, not willing to stand and stare at a grave any longer, she turned to begin the long trek back to the car. Not even a moment went by before she realized her friend wasn't following. Sure enough, when she turned around; Brooke remained by the grave, her eyes on the dirt. ''Brooke?'' Nothing. ''Brooke? You coming?''

Brooke snapped back to reality, tearing her eyes away from the grave and swallowing the sickness rising in her throat. There were so many things she could have been feeling right now and she was pretty sure she would feel them all later. But right now...all she could feel was a desperate need for...someone she hadn't seen in a long time. ''Haley...'' She worked hard to keep the desperation from her voice but she had a strong feeling Haley could see the dark clouds in her eyes. ''I want...I want...I want them to come.''

Now, that was something Haley would have liked to refuse. She didn't - couldn't - think about them because when she did she always thought of him and when she thought of him, her stomach jumped and the butterflies (oh fuck, the_ butterflies_) fluttered and all she could see when she closed her eyes was green eyes and a killer smirk when she should have seen the blue eyes and the kind smile of her husband. Shuffling in discomfort, she wrapped her arms around herself and prayed she could help Brooke herself and there would be no need to call them. ''Brooke...''

''Haley..._please.''_

And the brokenness of her best friend was simply too hard to ignore and the desperate plea was just a little too haunting to refuse. So, Haley swallowed her fear and nodded, trying to smile (because if she wasn't strong, who would be?) for Brooke. ''Okay, okay, I'll call them.''

Brooke smiled and allowed Haley to wrap an arm around her, leading her away from the gravesite.

While Brooke was half smiling, eager for the return of two people she loved, Haley was dreading the day _that man_ laid eyes on her son and saw everything he left behind. In retrospect, she really should have known this day would come sooner or later. She always knew he wouldn't stay away forever. She always knew the secrets and lies would come back to bite her in the ass.

After all...

...Nothing stays buried forever.

As the two girls disappeared into the trees, towards the quickly lightening sky, they completely missed the movement in the dirt. And they didn't see the hand come shooting up from the shallow grave.

Remember kiddies: _Nothing_ stays buried forever. Not even bodies.

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_i'm going under (going under)  
drowning in you (drowning in you)  
i'm falling forever (falling forever)  
i've got to break through  
i'm going under  
_**-evanescence, **_**going under**_

**end chapter one**

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**AN: I feel the need to point out that this story is a little more AU than the original version. I didn't want to give you the complete back story in the first chapter so I'll put it up in chapter two.**


	2. We Built This City

_AN: Sorry for the lateness. Work has been a real bitch. _

_So, there are a lot of changes to the story I figure I should point out. First of all it's a futurefic now. Well, it's futurefic for OTH, for SPN it's heavily AU. Basically, the ages are 26 for the OTH gang and Sam while Dean is around 28 or 29. Meaning, Jamie is roughly around eight. One of the main reasons for that is I write older children better than toddlers. I can write them being all cute and wisdomus (thank you Joey Tribbiani for my new 'word' of the day) but dealing with the things Jamie will have to deal with? Not so easy to write. Now, I wanted to be clear on the basic back story of Daley and Bram. When the Winchesters were teens they lived in Tree Hill for awhile. Dean had a relationship with Haley and Sam had a very close relationship with Brooke (_just _friendship). Eventually, they left and the girls moved on. When Sam was in college (his Stanford era as I like to call it), he ran into Brooke again and they had a night together. During high school, when Haley, Brooke and Peyton went to Rogue Vogue, Haley ran into Dean. I'm assuming you can guess what happened then. As for the rest; you'll have to wait (and there is a lot more that needs to be revealed) and see. As for a past between Saley and Brean? Well, nothing ever happened between Saley, but there was _something _with Brean._

_As for the rewrite. The basic plot is going to be the same, but the style and feel of the story will be quite different. For instance; it's going to be a little darker than before and there's probably going to be more swears. As of right now I'm unsure if the rating will move past T because I am not the greatest sex scene writer out there but I feel this story may need some._

Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill and Supernatural but I would love to own Jensen Ackles so he can be my...ahem...private slave.

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**Outskirts of Nowhere**

_Written by Becks Rylynn_

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**[Chapter Two: We Built This City]**

_say you don't know me or recognize my face  
say you don't care who goes to that kind of place  
knee deep in the hoopla sinking in your fight  
too many runaways eating up the night  
_**-starship, we built this city**

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Dean Winchester didn't like secrets. They were dark and dirty and they got way too complicated as the time passed and the lies the secret holder told got bigger and bigger. Secrets were just that: Lies. Secrets were messy and no matter what they always, _always_ came out in the end. No, Dean Winchester didn't like secrets. So, how is it that he got here, holding the biggest secret deep inside his tangled mess of a soul? Oh. Right. He remembered now.

_''Please don't do this, please...just let me be there, let me do this with you. I'll...I'll stop hunting, I'll love this boy like my father could never love me. Please, just __don't take him away from me.''_

See, that was what always came back to him late at night in the darkness of whatever shithole motel he found himself holed up in. That was the memory he couldn't let go of, that was the day everything changed. Because that was the day he had given up his...

No.

Shaking his head, Dean sighed and swallowed the memories, leaning back against the Impala, letting his gaze move to the cloudy sky. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen a blue sky. And he couldn't remember the last time he had thought about blue skies. Strange the way your mind works when your head feels like it's going to explode. He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, head pounding painfully. As his green eyes darted towards the gas station convenience store, he drew his lips into a thin line and searched for his brother. ''Come on, Sammy.''

He was so busy with his search for his brother (and really, he shouldn't be that hard to find considering the kid was a fucking giant) that when his phone rang, a strangled gasp escaped his lips and he jumped. Of course at the slightly embarrassing show of shock, he muttered a few choice swear words and plucked his phone from his pocket answering with an annoyed ''What?''

_''Hello, lover, did you miss me?''_

Shit.

Fuck.

_Goddamn._

His left hand reached out to grip the hood of the car for support and his vision went fuzzy for just a second because the static in his head was getting worse and worse as the little voice in his head screamed out her name. ''Haley?'' It came out a growl, making it sound harsher than he had intended for it to be. He just couldn't help it. I mean, _fuck_, it was_ Haley_.

_''Now, Dean, you don't sound very happy to hear from me.''_

No shit. He hadn't spoken to her in years. She was married, she was a teacher, a mother, she wasn't Haley James anymore, she was Haley James-_Scott_. She was a fucking good girl. And most importantly; she wasn't _his_ anymore. What the hell would perfect little stepford Haley want with a lowlife like him?

''Can you blame me, woman? We didn't exactly part on good terms the last time we saw each other.''

_''Whose fault is that?''_

''You really want me to answer that?''

_''You threatened to sue me for custody!''_

''You embedded your heel in my leg! And by the way, I only did that because I was concerned. Your husband was an alcoholic jackass who was bordering on verbally abusive and you weren't doing anything about it! So excuse the fuck out of me for caring.'' With the rage building and building and his breaking point coming into view, Dean suddenly felt the strongest urge to hit something. In an effort to stop himself from smashing his car, he clenched his fists and tried to take deep breaths. ''What the fuck do you want, Haley? Not that this hasn't been a really _pleasant_ conversation and all.''

There was silence on the other end of the conversation for several seconds and then he heard her sigh. _''I need you to come to Tree Hill.''_

He froze and swore for a second he couldn't breathe. Of course, being Dean Winchester he easily brushed it off and let a smirk fall across his face, as if she could see him. ''Yeah...let me get this straight. You call me, get all with the bitter talk and then ask me to come to Tree Hill. Ha! Try again, sweetheart.''

_''Look, this isn't about me, Dean! This is about Brooke.''_

Dean stopped and took a breath, trying to figure out if she was telling the truth or just trying to get him to _not_ hang up on her. A second passed and then another and another and finally when he decided he couldn't hold it in, he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. ''What about her?''

_''Dean...''_ All of a sudden she sounded tired, like she wasn't sure what she should say next. _''I'd really rather not do this over the phone.''_

''Yeah, well, that's tough Haley. Tell me what happened or I'm not going anywhere.''

_''Fine. She was attacked.''_

His breathing quickened and he closed his eyes briefly, biting down on his tongue to keep from sighing. No, not Brooke, she was too filled with light. For a moment, he thought of her hazel eyes and her dimpled smile and sorrow filled his veins and then something else hit him like a freight train and his eyes automatically went to the tall figure in the convenience store. How the hell was he going to tell Sam? ''What do you mean she was attacked? Is she all right?''

_''She's refusing medical assistance. I think she should be fine, but she won't tell me what exactly happened. All she's said is that she was attacked at her store. I don't know if he...if he raped her...or if she has internal injuries. All I know is that she's asking for you and your brother. Mostly your brother.''_

Another sigh built in his throat but he choked it down. ''Fine,'' he ground out. ''But for the record, I'm coming for Brooke, not for you.''

_''Still as pleasant as ever, I see.''_

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Sam exit the convenience store and he drew in a sharp breath, not looking forwards to telling him Brooke had been attacked. ''Hey, how's your pretty boy husband, anyways?''

_''That is none of your business, Dean,''_ she replied stiffly.

''Aww, he's not giving you any satisfaction, is he? Well, you know, darlin', I could help you with that.''

_''Go screw yourself.''_

''Nah, I'd rather you do it.''

_''You're such an animal.''_

''Uh-huh...and how's Jamie?'' The name slipped from his lips before he could stop it and instantly, he regretted it. Flashes of a little boy raced through his already pounding head and his jaw twitched. On the other line, he heard her suck in a breath and he was sure she was going to scream and yell and tell him not to come.

He was wrong.

_''Let's get one thing straight; when you get here you will not talk to, look at, or go _near_ my son, you got me, Winchester?''_

A small smile flickered across his face for half a second and to any passerby it would look sad and heartbreaking, which is why a scowl immediately replaced the aching smile. Because he was Dean Winchester after all and he did not like to _show_ anything. No one's heart should break for him. He was _fine_.

(well then, a secret keeper _and_ a liar, huh, Dean?)

''I'll see you in Tree Hill, James.''

_''It's James-_Scott _now.''_

A dial tone rang in his ear and it took him a moment to realize she had hung up on him because never in his life had a woman hung up on _him._ He blinked and tilted his head to the side, staring at the phone and wondering just _how the hell_ she had managed to convince him to go to the drama infested town of Tree Hill, North Carolina. Seriously, drama wormed its way into the lives of the residents of that town like a primetime soap opera. Shaking his head, Dean turned towards his brother and pasted a bright smile on his face. ''Hey, Sammy, guess what?''

Sam groaned and wondered if he really wanted to know. He figured probably not.

* * *

''Ouch! Goddamn it, Haley! I'm glad you don't have a career as a nurse because you really suck at it!''

''Sorry,'' Haley murmured softly as she pressed a bandage over a gash on Brooke's forehead. ''I'm not very good at this.'' That and her mind was still on the conversation with Dean. She had tried to be confident and sure of herself despite the fact that the sound of his voice sent shivers up and down her body. Unfortunately, she was afraid she had simply come off sounding like a bitch rather than confident and in control. Biting back a sigh, she smiled what she thought was a convincing smile and looked at Brooke. ''Usually I just kiss it better, but - ''

''Jamie still likes you to kiss it better?''

''Oh,'' Haley frowned and thought about her eight year old's plea to never tell anyone. ''I wasn't supposed to tell you that. Anyway, something tells me that won't work with you.''

''Yeah,'' Brooke smirked and tilted her head to the side. ''Sorry, tutormom, I don't swing that way.'' She laughed lightly at her own joke but yelped when Haley pressed down on a bruise. Clearly, her friend did not appreciate her sense of humor.

''Oops,'' Haley blinked and smiled sweetly. ''Sorry.'' Removing the ice pack from her friend's eye, she frowned and leaned a little closer, inspecting the black eye. ''Damn. That's a real shiner you got there, Brooke, are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital. That's where the drugs are.''

Brooke snorted and leaned back against the couch, biting down on her lip slightly. ''That's also where the authority figures are.'' She shot Haley a look, arching an eyebrow. ''What exactly do you want me to tell them?''

''Just tell them you fell down the stairs.''

Brooke snatched the ice pack from Haley's hand and put the ice pack on her forehead, closing her eyes. She hadn't realized how tired she was until she closed eyes. Guess getting the shit beat out of you really made you tired. ''Right,'' she murmured, ''because they'll believe that. The stairs beat me up. Please, Hales, they'll think I'm some sort of battered girlfriend.'' And the one thing Brooke Davis would never be was a battered girlfriend. She was _not_ a fucking weakling.

They were both silent for a moment and then, her face perfectly straight, Haley leaned forwards and pressed on Brooke's stomach. Hazel eyes flashed and the young fashion designer screamed and jolted forwards, her eyes narrowing in anger as she worked to control her breathing. ''Fuck, Haley! That _hurt_!''

''Mmmhmm,'' Haley rose to her feet and put her hands on her hips, not at all phased by the swear. ''That's what I thought. All right, take off your clothes.''

''Take off my what now?''

''For the love of god, Brooke.'' Haley rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. ''You're a girl, I'm a girl, it's nothing I haven't seen before. We were roommates once, you know.''

''I'd really rather not.''

''Well, that's just too damn bad. Take 'em off, or I'm afraid I'll be forced to strip you down myself.''

Brooke attempted to match Haley's glare...for about thirty seconds. But when Haley James-Scott glared her mother hen glare at you; it would be best to just shut up and do what she says. Sighing heavily, she stood and stripped off her bloody and torn dress. The way Haley sucked in a breath and her hands clasped together, Brooke was guessing the diagnosis wasn't good. ''So I guess I won't be wearing a bikini any time soon, huh?''

Her lame attempt to joke did not go over well with Haley as she frowned deeply and moved closer to Brooke, her eyes on the bruises and cuts all over pale skin. ''Oh, Brooke...'' And she meant to say more, she really did, but then the door opened and a very _un_-manly shriek echoed through the house.

''Oh my god!''

The two women turned towards the two men standing in the doorway and while a wide smile spread across Brooke's face, Haley's breathing quickened and she started to feel faint. She would never tell Brooke this, but she had really doubted they would really come.

''Holy hell, Davis, what the hell happened to you?''

''What's it look like, Dean?'' Brooke's smile turned into a smirk as she put a hand on her uninjured hip. ''I got beat up.'' And then she snapped her fingers and let out a small laugh. ''But hey, you should see the other guy.''

Her nonchalant response made Haley frown slightly. For someone who had practically been shaking in shock a couple hours ago Brooke seemed to be handling this incredibly well. Either that or this was all just an act...

...Yeah, it was probably the latter.

''Oh, come on, Sam.'' Brooke took a step towards the taller of the two men and pried his hands away from his eyes. ''It's not like you haven't seen me naked before. Actually,'' she frowned and looked at Dean briefly. ''You both have. Wow, I really was a slut, wasn't I?''

He sighed and crossed his arms uncomfortably, smiling softly. ''Hi, Brooke.''

She smiled back for a moment but before she could say anything a blanket was very ungracefully thrown over her head. ''Um...I didn't really care for that, Haley.''

''Cover yourself up, Brooke,'' Haley muttered, ''you're not in high school anymore.''

''Ouch.''

Eyes drifting to Dean out of instinct, Haley told herself to breathe and not freak out. For the love of god, it was just _Dean._ Right. It was _Dean._ As in Dean Winchester. As in first love, I-Swear-I'm-Going-To-Marry-That-Boy _Dean Winchester._ As in That-One-Night-In-New-York _Dean Winchester._ She thought she had every right feel a little faint. Swallowing hard, she plastered on her mask and took a step towards him. ''You look different,'' she tilted her head to the side and watched as his fists clenched.

''A lot can change in four years, Haley.''

She sighed tiredly. ''What happened, Dean?''

Growing somewhat uncomfortable, he arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms. For some reason, Haley James was the only one in the world who could make him feel like he was naked in front of a crowd. Oh, wait. Haley James-_Scott._ ''What makes you think something happened?''

'' 'Cause you got that look. The one where it looks like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.''

''Okay!'' Dean let out a bark of laughter that screamed _let's change the subject_ and his trademark smirk that hid it all deep inside spread across his lips. ''How about we skip this part where you pretend to care and I get all defensive and we end up in a screaming match because Brooke and Sam are here and it would just get very uncomfortable for them, 'kay?'' With a wide - and clearly fake - smile, he turned back towards Brooke. ''Tell me you kicked the crap out of him.''

''Just like you taught me.''

''That's my girl.''

''Since when is she your girl, Dean?'' Haley snapped.

''Why? Jealous?''

She scoffed and held up her left hand. ''I'm wearing a ring.''

''Hey, as long as that's all you're wearing, I don't really care. Oh, and maybe some heels.''

That would be where all hell broke loose. Haley let out a screech and lunged at the elder Winchester, claws out, restrained by Sam's arms winding around her waist. ''Let me at him! Sex fiend!''

''Whoa, Haley, you have got to calm down.'' Sam's grip on her tightened but it was becoming increasingly hard not to laugh. Especially since Brooke was already doubled over in a fit of giggles. ''He's not worth it.''

''Oh, I _so_ am,'' Dean fired back, taking a step towards Haley. A very dangerous move, considering she was still kicking and clawing. ''C'mon, school teacher, let me have it. I dare you. Come and get me, baby!''

''Sam, let me go! I need to kill the dumbass!''

Dean laughed loudly, took a step back and in an incredibly childish move, stuck his tongue out at her. She growled and her eyes narrowed into slits. ''You know what you are, Winchester? You're a sex addict. Well, guess what?'' When Sam let her go, she didn't lunge; instead, she opted for the mature option and stuck her nose up in the air, crossing her arms. ''I will not play Tea Leoni to your David Duchovny.''

He drew in a breath, looked at her for a moment, blinking while he desperately tried to come up with a response to that and then he sighed, and shook his head. ''I'm out.''

''Ha!'' Haley grinned and pumped her fist in the air triumphantly. ''I win. I win, you lose and that is the way it should always be.''

''Wow,'' Sam looked in between them for a moment and then shook his head. ''You two make me feel tired.'' Deciding not to comment on their _insane_ display of...could that be considered affection? Anyway, deciding not comment on..._that_ he turned his gaze to Brooke, who was seated on the couch, trying to calm her laughter.

''Guys,'' she gasped out, ''don't make me laugh.''

''All right, can you two be adults now?'' Sam questioned, resisting the urge to sigh.

''I will if he will.''

All eyes turned to Dean. His eyes widened and he glared defensively. ''What? Why are you all looking at me? She's the one that lunged at me like some sort of animal.''

''Want to see me do it again?''

''Okay!'' Sometimes, it was hard to believe these two were in their twenties. I mean, geez. They acted like they were in kindergarten. It only proved that two of the most fucked up people in America should not be in the same room together. Especially not after they got their hearts broken by each other. That only spelled trouble. ''How about you two just don't talk to each other? At all. Sound good.''

Green and brown eyes remained locked in a glare for several seconds before they both caved at the same time and looked away, both managing to spit out ''fine.''

''Good. We're here for Brooke, not for your drama.''

Fine with them. They had done drama and it didn't work for them. They were under no circumstances going to start up with the drama and angst again. Or...that was the plan until they looked at each other and felt shivers. Haley looked away first and took a seat next to Brooke, smiling softly at her friend. ''You should tell them,'' she whispered.

Brooke pressed a hand to her side and pulled the blanket tighter around her body, looking forward to when she would get to put clothes on. She ran a hand through her tangled hair, clearing her throat nervously as she smiled nervously at the three pairs of eyes that were suddenly all on her. ''Uh...yeah...about the...the guy who attacked me. See, I...I kind of did more than kick the crap out of him.'' Peering up at them through her hair, she bit her lip and tried to keep her cool. ''I kind of killed him.'' She shrugged and pushed hair out of her eyes. ''Don't mess with Brooke Davis.''

* * *

From the moment Dean said he was going to go salt and burn the bones and Brooke shoved Haley out the door with a shout of ''Haley will go with you!'' Haley knew it was going to be a very long day. Right now, she was supposed to be giving a pop quiz in English, not hiking through the woods with her ex, preparing to salt and burn the corpse of a man her best friend had killed the night before and she had buried in a shallow grave. Sigh. When had her life gotten so...weird?

Attempting to juggle a shovel and a container of salt in her hands, Haley hurried to catch up with Dean. Why had she ever worn heels? Why? She must have had a blonde moment. ''Dean!'' Up ahead, he didn't even turn around. Honestly, he could be so frustrating. She stepped over what looked like a dead rat and grimaced. ''Dean, are you ever going to talk to me?''

Dean didn't even look at her, instead focusing his eyes on the ground, looking for the grave. As surprising as it was, he really didn't feel like having a heart to heart with his ex. I know, shocking, right? ''Wasn't planning on it.''

''Dean.''

''Haley.''

''Stop being such a child.''

''Okay,'' Dean turned abruptly and she stopped in her tracks, dangerously close to bumping into him. With a sigh that told her he was trying very hard not to freak out and start yelling, he put his hands on her shoulders and met her eyes. He didn't know how she managed to do it, but every time he saw Haley James, (Haley James-_Scott_, he reminded himself) she always brought drama back into his life. And she always looked pretty damn hot doing it. ''Look, James, I get that you're angry with me, I get that you think I'm going to mess up this perfect little fairytale, stepford life you've made for yourself, but I promise you, as soon as we're done here, I'll be out of your life...forever. Yours and Jamie's.'' That said, he turned and stomped away from her.

Haley stood frozen for a moment, but her eyes quickly hardened and she broke into a run as she chased after him. ''Dean Winchester! Is this some kind of excuse because you don't want to be involved?''

''Haley, you're the one that asked me to give him up!'' He whirled around to face her, and she crashed into him. Despite the anger in his eyes, his arms automatically went around her, keeping her upright. ''_You_ are the one that won't let me be involved. Don't you dare blame this on me. You. Left. Me! Not the other way around!'' And then he turned and stalked away because he always _had_ to be the one to make the dramatic exit.

''But…aah!'' She got exactly two steps before her foot caught in an exposed tree root and she went to the ground, salt and shovel flying through the air. Oh, well...that was just great. Really. Just what she needed. A moment went by and she didn't move an inch, eyes on the blue sky. Of course then Dean's smirking face came into view and a scowl crossed her face. ''Don't say a word.''

''I wasn't going to say anything,'' he said quickly as he reached down and effortlessly hauled her to her feet.

Somewhat uncomfortable at his touch (and it wasn't necessarily a bad uncomfortable) she pulled away and smoothed down her shirt. ''Thanks.''

He looked at her for a second and then cleared his throat. ''Sure.'' His gaze moved down to her heels and he couldn't help but laugh. ''God, you're such a girl.''

''These are genuine Brooke Davis shoes!''

''We're in the middle of the woods, Haley.''

''Okay fine,'' she let out a small chuckle and tried (and failed) to keep the blush off her face. ''So maybe they weren't the best shoe choice I've ever made.''

''You think?''

It took them a moment to realize that they were actually, kind of getting along and when they did, they grew extremely uncomfortable, both looking away quickly, attempting to wipe the smiles off their faces. No. This wasn't how their relationship was supposed to work. They weren't supposed to get along, they were supposed to be angry and bitter and jaded. As the silence got louder and louder, neither one of them walked away like they should have. There were words bubbling inside, things they needed to say, things they should have said a long time ago. He was the first one to try and speak. But the words seemed to get stuck in his throat and finally, after a moment too long, he shook his head, turned and walked away.

She remained where she was, standing still as she watched him walk away.

_''Please don't do this, please...just let me be there, let me do this with you. I'll...I'll stop hunting, I'll love this boy like my father could never love me. Please, just __don't take him away from me.''_

_''I...I want to believe you, Dean, but I...I just can't. I'm sorry.''_

_''Haley, please...''_

_''Can you really give up everything you've ever known?''_

_''I can try.''_

_''I know you, Dean. You need the hunting. You need to find the thing that killed your mother. But I don't want that for him. He...He deserves so much better. I don't want him to have this life. And I know you don't either.''_

Haley swallowed hard and shook away the memories. No. She would not think about that night, she thought about it enough when she was alone, she didn't need to think about it now. It was for the best. She honestly believed that...

Yeah, right.

* * *

''Okay.'' With a heavy sigh, Sam held up a sketch pad with a drawing of a semi scary looking guy on it. ''Is this him?''

Brooke turned around, pausing in her attempts to stir pasta sauce and squinted at the picture. ''Nope.''

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. ''Well, if you would give me a better description, maybe I could draw the right guy for once.'' Shaking his head, Sam pulled the paper off the sketch pad and crumpled it into a ball, tossing it into the trash can with the other ten drawings of the wrong criminal.

She shrugged and muttered an unapologetic ''sorry'' as she smiled brightly and tasted the pasta sauce. ''Hmm, needs more oregano.''

''Brooke, should you be cooking? I mean, last time I saw you, you couldn't even make cake from a mix.''

''I lived on my own for almost five years. I learned things.''

''That sounds...kind of dirty.''

''Sorry, Sammy, I know we kind of had a thing once, but I just don't feel that way about you. You should move on.'' Brooke patted his arm sympathetically, ignoring the way he rolled his eyes in annoyance. Choking back a small smirk, she turned away and went back to stirring the sauce, hand reaching for the oregano. ''Besides, I still can't make cake from a mix. I can cook, I can't bake.''

''You know,'' Sam looked up from his sketch pad and tilted his head at her. ''You're very chipper for someone who was beat to a bloody pulp last night.''

Brooke froze for a moment, trying not to think at all before turning around to send him a smile that proved she was a-okay. ''I think that you have to take all the bad stuff, to get to the good stuff. Like a present. You have to tear off all that annoying wrapping paper and tape to get to the diamond filled center.'' She smiled dreamily. ''Mmm, diamonds.''

Sam raised an eyebrow and waved a hand in front of her face. ''Hello? Earth to Brookie?'' As much as it seemed she had changed, she was still the same diamond loving girl he had known all those years ago.

She snapped out of her diamond induced trance and trained her eyes to him. ''What?''

He held up the sketch pad again. ''How about him?''

Brooke's heart turned to ice and she gripped the counter for support as her head pounded painfully. That was a face she never wanted to see again. She knew as soon as she closed her eyes, that face was going to haunt her dreams. Forever. ''Yeah,'' she smiled, but it came out more of a grimace, weak and distorted, like a picture blurred by water. ''That'd be him.''

Sam watched as the light in her brown eyes slowly fizzled out and she turned away from him to hide her face and her emotions, like he knew she always did. Sighing, he looked down at the picture in his hands. ''Hmm.''

* * *

''Ow, ow, ow, ow.'' Never in her life had her feet hurt so bad. Even when she was pregnant and her ankles with swollen and sore, her feet had never hurt like this. Stupid freaking heels. Moaning, Haley stopped walking and leaned against a tree, undoing the strap on her heels and taking one off to rub her sore feet. ''Note to self,'' she murmured under her breath. ''Never wear heels again.''

Letting out a weary breath, she took off her other stiletto and tucked them under her arm as her gaze moved ahead of her. No Dean. He had been there a minute ago. ''Goddamn it.'' She had the strongest urge to roll her eyes as she started to hike through the woods, branches and gravel slicing into her bare skin, but she suppressed the urge. ''Dean!'' No answer. ''Answer me, you stupid jerk! Where are you?'' When pain suddenly slammed into her foot, she hissed and decided to train her eyes on the ground, trying in vain to attempt to avoid rocks. She was so busy watching where she was going that she didn't see her ex until she had crashed into him and landed on the ground with a small ''oof!''

''Huh,'' Dean tilted his head to the side and looked down at the brunette on the ground, her feet dirty and bleeding from stepping over rocks and branches in bare feet. And he tried not to laugh, really he did, but it was just such an amusing image. ''You should watch where you're going.''

''Me?'' Haley's eyes blazed as she hauled herself to her feet, shoving a finger in his chest. ''What about you? Why were you just standing there like some kind of statue, we're supposed to be burning a corpse. _Remember_?''

''Haley,'' Dean put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face what he had been studying. There it was. The shallow grave she and Brooke had dug the night before. Only now, the dirt had been dug up and there was nothing in it. No body. Haley's eyes widened dramatically and she bit down on her lip nervously. ''Well...'' she smiled innocently and looked at Dean. ''That can't be good.''

* * *

_we built this city, we built this city on rock and roll  
built this city, we built this city on rock and roll_  
**-starship, we built this city**

**end chapter two**


	3. Hope It Gives You Hell

_AN: I know, I know, I'm a bad person for taking this long. Go ahead. Shoot me if you want._

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

**Outskirts of Nowhere**

_Written by Becks Rylynn_

_

* * *

_

**[Chapter Three: Hope It Gives You Hell]**

_when you see my face  
hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell  
when you walk my way  
hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell  
_**-all american rejects, **_**gives you hell**_

_**

* * *

**_

Brooke sucked in a breath and reached her arms up, putting her hair up into a loose bun. Just the one movement caused her extreme pain. She grimaced and shuffled in front of her full length mirror letting her pink fluffy bathrobe fall to the floor, revealing her bruised and battered, cut and torn skin. Again, she grimaced at the sight and turned, examining the bruises on her side. Well, great. She looked like some kind of punching bag. Gently, trying not to hurt herself; she traced her fingers over the bruises on her stomach and then leaned closer to the mirror, to look at her black eye and the cuts on her face. Yep. Punching bag. Blowing out a sigh, she closed her tired eyes, but as soon as she did; the face of her attacker floated into her mind and she could hear herself whimpering as he struck her over and over. In her mind's eye, she watched as she embedded the knife into his chest and killed him. With a sharp gasp, she opened her eyes and looked at her reflection. Utterly pathetic. She curled up her lip in disgust at the terrified look on her face and tore herself away from the mirror, tearing open her drawer and pulling out clothes until she found something that was loose enough it hopefully wouldn't agitate her bruises too much. _I'm not going to cry,_ she told herself firmly. If she didn't cry, she would be fine. She would be_ just fine._

She was Brooke fucking Davis. She would be _fine._

A-okay.

Really.

Something moved behind her and she let a smirk fall onto her bruised, yet beautiful face. ''I know you're there.'' She turned, not even bothering to cover up. ''Not so shy anymore, huh, Sammy?''

He shrugged, and leaned against the door, but kept his eyes firmly on her face. ''Like you said...it's nothing I haven't seen before.'' Sam looked at Brooke closely, studying his friend with mild concern. Stiff posture, blank eyes, smirk a little too forced. She was hurting more then she would admit. ''How are you?''

She shrugged and turned away from him, pulling on a pair of jeans and a loose purple top. ''Fine. I'd be better if you found out who did this.''

''I'm working on it.''

''Well, good.'' When she turned back to him, a bright smile was on her face, replacing the smirk. ''So, how long are you guys staying anyway? 'Cause you should totally meet the gang.''

''Brooke, you don't have to lie to me,'' he said softly, taking a step towards her. ''I know you're not fine.''

When his eyes locked onto hers, she tore her eyes away and crossed her arms, swallowing hard. ''I am fine, though. I'm a Davis, we get beat up all the time.''

''Your Dad was a hunter, Brooke. Your sister is a hunter. You are_ not_. You _don't_ get beat up all the time, stop acting like this isn't a big deal, because it is, and you know that.'' He reached out to touch her arm, but she moved away from him and pulled the curtains away, staring out the window.

Now, Sam knew Brooke, he knew her better then she probably knew herself sometimes. That wasn't something he was going to go announcing to the world, but he did. And he knew right now that she was hiding her emotions. Something Winchester's knew a lot about.

''Sam,'' Brooke trained her blank eyes on a woman walking her dog. ''You own a gun, right?'' She let the curtain fall and turned towards him, her blank eyes now filled with rage. ''I want you to teach me how to use it.''

Because she was Brooke fucking Davis and she did _not_ like to feel weak.

Before he could say anything (he didn't really know what to say anyways) the front door crashed open and Haley's voice echoed through the house. _''Guys! We have a problem!''_

_

* * *

_

Dean and Haley practically fell through the front door, slamming it behind them and throwing the locks like they expected the dead guy to jump out at them and eat their brains. Out of breath, confused and feeling a whole slew of emotions they didn't particularly care for, they both leaned against the door, catching their breaths. Eyes flickering in anger, she turned towards him and threw him a scowl. ''For the record, I blame you for this.''

''Haley, what _don't_ you blame me for?''

''Easy. Global warming.''

''Thanks for that.''

She looked at him for moment, the look on her face telling him she was clearly trying to come up with some scathing remark before she abruptly turned away from him and tore off her jacket, throwing it onto the couch. ''Guys! We have a problem!'' Muttering curses she hardly ever said under her breath, she roughly pushed past Dean and reached into Brooke's kitchen cabinet, retrieving a bottle of vodka and taking a gulp straight from the bottle.

At the sight of her guzzling vodka like a pro, Dean smirked and sat down at the counter, raising his eyebrows. He had taught her well. ''That's kind of hot.''

She narrowed her eyes and slammed the bottle down in front of him, leaning her elbows on the counter. ''I have a gun.''

He licked his lips and leaned closer to her over the counter, moving his lips to her ear. ''So do I.'' Sure, maybe he was beyond angry at her, maybe he wished sometimes that he had never met her, maybe he regretted coming here the minute he saw her, but that didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun with her while he was here. It was in his nature.

Ignoring the shiver that ran down her spine, she snarled and clipped him on the back of the head, rolling her eyes and moving away from him. ''Pervert.''

Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Brooke and Sam appeared, both looking fidgety and kind of guilty. Brooke took one look at Haley, guzzling down vodka and put her hands over her face. ''Why do I get the feeling like you two are about to drop some big bombshell on us?''

''Demons!'' Haley threw a hand up in the air and took another swig of alcohol. ''_Demons_! In my town! You!'' She whirled around and shoved her finger into Dean's chest. ''This is all your fault!''

''Yeah, I think you mentioned something about that before.''

''You...You...hunter! You probably brought them right along with you!''

''Hey,'' Dean grabbed her wrist and stood, towering over her. ''You're the one that called us.''

''It was Brooke's idea! It wasn't my idea!''

''If it was Brooke's idea, why didn't you just say no?''

''Because...Because...Because she was hurt! And Brooke Davis! Have you ever tried saying no to Brooke Davis?''

''Uh...'' Brooke leaned over to Sam. ''Should we separate them?''

''I would, but...'' A Winchester smirk covered Sam's face and he folded his arms across his chest. ''They're so entertaining.''

''Who says no to Brooke Davis?''

Haley was silent for a moment, and then her eyes narrowed and she wrenched her arm free, and punched him, getting a small sense of satisfaction when he stumbled back and grabbed his nose. ''Ow! Ha-_ley_! I didn't mean it in a dirty way!'' Dean slid his eyes to Sam and glared at him. ''See, Sammy, this is what I get for thinking with my upstairs brain!''

When Haley reached for the bottle of vodka, Brooke quickly stepped in and snatched the bottle away from her friend. ''All right, I think that's enough of that. Haley, honey, you sit down, right here,'' she steered Haley into the living room and pushed her on the couch, ignoring the glare she got. ''And Dean, you sit...way over there.'' Brooke turned away from her friends, rolling her eyes and sat down. ''Now, what do you mean demons?''

''What do you think we mean, Brooke?'' Haley folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot impatiently. ''I mean _demons_. As in, kill-everyone-for-no-reason-at-all demons.''

''Well, actually, demons usually have a reason.'' Sam piped up helpfully. The glare he got in return was enough to shut him up. ''Or….Or not.''

''What exactly happened?'' Brooke asked, rubbing her forehead. Dean and Haley had been back for, like, fifteen minutes and already she was getting a Daley induced headache.

''Your body's missing.'' Dean spoke up, leaning back in the chair and trying to stop the bleeding. Haley may have looked like a tiny little woman, but she packed a nasty punch. Literally.

Brooke wrinkled her nose and looked down at herself. ''Wha -''

''Not that body, Brookie. I mean the corpse. It's gone. The grave was a mess too. So, either someone dug up the body for some_ really _fucked up reason, or...''

''Or he wasn't as dead as we thought.'' Haley finished, sinking into the couch and pinching the bridge of her nose. She really shouldn't have guzzled that vodka so fast. Actually, she really shouldn't have guzzled that vodka at all. Now, on top of everything else, her head was pounding. Also, the world was kind of spinning a little. Closing her eyes, she sank down into the seat and took a few deep breaths. It almost sounded like someone was knocking in her head. Hey...

Wait a minute. Her eyes snapped open just in time to see Brooke open the door and her husband step inside. ''Nathan!'' Eyes widening in panic, she leapt to her feet, sending a warning look at Dean and pulled Nathan in for a tight hug turning him around so he wouldn't see Dean and Sam. ''Hi, honey, what...what are you doing here?''

Nathan frowned. ''I...came to see if everything was okay. Uh, Brooke, what the hell happened to you? Are you okay?''

''Oh, I'm fine.'' Brooke smiled nervously. ''I fell down the stairs. Yeah, here's a little advice, don't wear four inch heels when you're dragging a laundry basket down the stairs.''

''...Okay...I won't.'' Nathan frowned, and shook his head, looking away from Brooke at his wife. ''Are_ you _okay?''

''Fine!'' Haley plastered a bright smile on her face and wrapped her arms around his neck. ''Why do you ask?''

''Because you're acting weird.''

''Uh, well, yeah...Brooke and I had some...some vodka shots and I'm a little buzzed. Hey, what are you doing here? Don't you have practice?'' Haley looked over her shoulder anxiously and when Nathan's eyes tried to follow his gaze, she leaned in and kissed him quickly.

Behind them, Brooke rolled her eyes and sat down next to Dean, crossing her legs. She turned her gaze to him and smirked lazily, leaning closer to him. ''I know what you're thinking, Winchester.''

Sam took a breath. ''Oh boy.''

''Yeah, I'm thinking why aren't you getting me an icepack?''

''Nope, you're thinking...'' Brooke turned her gaze to Nathan and Haley. ''..._That used to be me_.''

Dean scowled. ''Brooke, do you_ ever _mind your own business?''

''No. What fun would that be?''

That moment would be when Nathan finally moved past Haley and his eyes landed on the two Winchester brothers sitting there. His reaction was instant anger, hands clenching into fists at his sides as he pushed past his wife, shaking off the hand she had on his arm, ignoring her plea of, ''Nathan, please don't.''

What? Was he supposed to ignore the fact that the man who almost took Haley away from him was sitting in his friend's living room? Like hell. ''You.'' His voice was a growl, low and furious and he looked like he was ready to rip the older man's head off.

Dean couldn't really blame the kid for being angry. He did almost steal his wife away from him once upon a time. Plus, it was _Haley._ So, yeah, Dean could understand the desperate need to keep her, he had felt it once too. But...the way Scott was looking at him was just not welcome. With a grin, he tilted his head to the side and gave the younger man a onceover, deciding if he had to, he could take him in a fight. You know, if it ever came to that. ''Yep. Me. How you been, Nate?''

''What the hell are you two doing here?'' Nathan scowled. ''I warned you if you ever showed your sorry - ''

''Oh, calm down,'' Dean bit out, hands clenching into fists. ''Mind your blood pressure, Scott. We're just here to - ''

''Me!'' Brooke cut in, nodding. ''They're here for me.'' Hoping against hope that Nathan would believe her, she jumped to her feet and made her way over to her friend, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders. ''I'm really sorry, Nate,'' she murmured, softly. ''But I had to ask them to come.''

Nathan narrowed his eyes and turned towards her. ''Why?''

''They're here to help me with...'' And that was when she realized she had pretty much just talked herself into a hole. What could she say they were here for? Demon problems? That probably wouldn't go over well with Nathan, who knew nothing of the world of supernatural. ''Uh...'' Eyes widening, she turned to Sam for help, pleading with him to help her. ''They're here to help me with...''

Sam frowned; a little unnerved by the way she was looking at him. Really, what did she want him to - oh! ''Work,'' he blurted out, anxiously, sending Nathan a small smile. ''We're here to help her with her work.''

Nathan blinked and looked in between the four, who were all nodding in agreement. ''Let me get this straight,'' he started, turning to Brooke. ''You called the _Winchester brothers _to help you with your _fashion _business?''

Silence coated the living room. They probably should have thought of that. Behind her husband, Haley choked down a groan, shaking her head and bringing a hand to her forehead. Oh, man. These three were going to be the death of her. Seriously, they were really going to kill her dead. Brooke was crazy enough with Sam and Dean's help.

''Oh yeah,'' Dean laughed, reaching over to clap his brother on the shoulder. ''This one here's a real fashion expert. Tell him, Sammy.''

Sam pursed his lips and made a mental note to kill his brother later. ''Uh...'' He cleared his throat, preparing himself for hours of merciless teasing as soon as the next words came out of his mouth. Smiling widely, he looked up at Nathan and hoped he was at least a little bit convincing. ''Yeah, I love clothes. I'm like the guy version of Gianni Versace.''

''Honey,'' Brooke sighed, shaking her head. ''Gianni Versace _was_ a guy.''

Sam snapped his fingers. ''I knew that.''

''Hey!'' Haley jumped in between Nathan and Dean before any fists of fury could go a-flying and grabbed her husband's hands, meeting his eyes. Her chocolate orbs pierced straight into his baby blues almost like she was pleading with him to believe that nothing was going on. ''So, we should go, right? I have to pick up Jamie, you have to - ''

''I don't want that guy anywhere near my son, Haley,'' Nathan warned.

On the couch, Dean snorted, opening his mouth to argue, only silencing when Haley snapped out a ''Shut up, Dean'' without even turning around. Narrowing his eyes, the eldest Winchester slumped farther into his seat and crossed his arms. It was unlike him to actually pout over a girl, but this wasn't just any girl. This was a girl who had just told him to shut up. A girl who had told him to shut up and _didn't_ receive some sort of horrible, jackass-ey remark in response.

''Nathan,'' Haley spoke in a low voice, trying not to whirl around and snap at her so called friends because she just knew all three of them were leaning forwards hoping to catch some of the conversation. How mature, right? Honestly, all three of them were in their twenties and they were still pulling this crap. ''Listen, this doesn't mean anything, all right?''

''Haley...''

''It _doesn't._ You know he doesn't mean anything to me anymore.''

Brooke and Sam both turned to look at Dean but he was completely silent, his eyes practically burning a hole in Haley's back, green flashing with something other than dislike. Yeah, this could possibly get a little messy.

Turning, Haley smiled widely and pulled Brooke to the side. ''I'm sorry, Brooke,'' she shook her head, mock sympathy coating her eyes. ''Nathan has practice so I'm going to go pick up Jamie from school, okay? Feel better.'' And then her arms were around her friend and she was pulling her closer, whispering in her ear, ''Find out what you can about demons that can reanimate bodies.'' When she pulled back, her eyes flicked briefly to Dean and Sam and for a brief second, just a second, Dean and Haley's eyes met, green on brown. But as quickly as it came, the moment was gone and she was looking away, smiling at her husband. ''Okay, honey, let's go.''

For a really long time, Dean stared after them. His hands were gripping the sides of the chair so tightly his knuckles were going white, his jaw was clenched in irritation and while Brooke and Sam were both staring at him, he didn't seem to notice at all.

''Well!'' Brooke broke the silence with a clap of her hands and a big smile. ''That was...interesting.'' She tilted her head to the side and turned to stare at the door where Nathan and Haley had disappeared, a frown briefly wiping the smile off her face. Another love triangle. Super. Hey, at least she wasn't in it this time. That was a plus. Shaking it off, she turned back to the boys and put a hand on her hip. ''Looks like we have some research to do. And I know just the thing that could help us.''

* * *

Sitting against an oak tree in the schoolyard, the heavy leaves shading her from the afternoon sun, Haley bit down on her bottom lip and tried to think about anything but Nathan and Dean. It was way too complicated. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She groaned and leaned her head back against the tree. She was supposed to be the one person in Tree Hill who _wasn't_ totally and completely fucked and dysfunctional. With a shake of her head, she scanned the schoolyard for her son and looked down at her watch. Where was he? Closing her eyes against the blaring sun, she licked her lips and saw _him. _Things in her life had finally calmed down. No crazy ass Nanny Carrie, no Dan and suddenly Dean Winchester walks back into her life after all these years and it's like - wow. She was currently remembering all of those things about Dean she would have liked to have forgotten.

The things he liked, the way his eyes twinkled when he smiled at her, his favourite food, his steady, gentle smile, how good he was with his hands. The way he kissed her...touched her...fucked her.

Whoa!

Down Haley.

''Mom!''

She opened her eyes just in time for a little boy to launch himself into her lap and press a sloppy kiss to her cheek. ''Mom,'' he groaned, falling off her lap, his knees digging into the dirt. ''Where _were_ you? How come dad took me to school today? Where's the car?'' He halted in his questioning and looked down at her feet, now safely in flip flops. ''What happened to your feet?''

''Heels,'' Haley said simply, pushing herself to her feet and taking his hand. ''How was school today, baby?''

''Mom.'' Jamie rolled his eyes and tugged his hand out of hers. ''What did I say about the hand holding?''

''Right. Sorry. Sometimes I forget you're not a baby anymore.'' Seemed like just yesterday she was sitting in that hospital room with her newborn son in her arms and Nathan was out getting coffee and then suddenly there was someone else in the doorway and _He's perfect, Hales_ and _He's ours_ and...you know what? Let's just not. ''So,'' she smiled down at her son, taking his backpack from him and slinging it over her shoulder. ''School. Was it good?''

Jamie shrugged as they started down the sidewalk, shoving his hands into his pockets in a mirror image of his father. ''Okay. Ralph Ross made fun of Betsy Lawrence and got sent to the corner.''

''There's a kid in your class named Ralph Ross?''

''He's new. What are we going to do today? Can we go see Aunt Brooke? I haven't seen her in forever.''

''You saw her the day before yesterday.''

''Whatever. Can we? She always gives me cookies even when you say no.''

''She what?''

He paused and pressed his lips together, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. ''...I don't think I was supposed to tell you that.''

''No. Probably not.'' A smile danced its way across her lips as she slung the backpack over her shoulder.

''Well, can we go see her?''

''Uh...'' Haley bit down on her lip again until she tasted blood and a small sigh escaped her lips. ''Actually, honey, Aunt Brooke isn't feeling so great today. How about we go home instead and make her some cookies?''

''Mom,'' Jamie groaned _again._ ''I'm _eight._''

''I'll let you lick the bowl.''

''...And the spatula?''

''Sure.''

He thought about it for a moment, weighing the pros and cons. Bake cookies with his mom like a baby and risk merciless teasing from his friends or keep it a secret and lick the bowl _and_ the spatula. Oh yeah, it was no contest. ''Mom,'' he said seriously. ''You've got yourself a deal.''

She laughed and it felt good to laugh again. Pushing all thoughts of her new problems out of her mind, Haley focused on her son and kept walking. She was so busy keeping her mind on Jamie that she didn't see the pair of eyes watching her from the bushes.

* * *

Brooke coughed as a cloud of dust erupted from an old trunk in her attic. Waving it away, she grimaced and looked down into the trunk, eyebrows shooting into her hairline. ''Huh. Found Dad's old weapons.'' Reaching into the trunk, careful not to cut herself on any of the sharp knives, she pulled out a crossbow and fingered the arrow with morbid curiosity. ''What the hell is this thing?''

Looking up from what he was doing, Sam's eyes widened when he saw the weapon in her hands and he moved fast, removing it from her hand. Brooke Davis with a crossbow. Now that was dangerous. ''Something you probably shouldn't be playing with.'' When Dean laughed behind him, he shot his brother a glare and the older man sobered and looked back down at the pile of papers in his hands.

Somewhat insulted, Brooke sniffed hotly, turning her back to Sam. ''Whatever. I know how to handle some thing you know. I own a gun.''

''Yeah, but you don't know how to use it.''

''You could help me with that,'' she mumbled under her breath. The brunette frowned and pulled out an incredibly heavy object from the trunk, absently pointing it at the brothers as she played with the buttons on the side.

In response, the Winchesters leapt away from her and the papers in Dean's hands went flying. ''Whoa!'' Dean yelped. ''Brookie, point that thing somewhere else, will you? _Geez!_ Is that what I think it is?''

''Uh-huh.'' Sam nodded and hesitantly moved to Brooke, brushing dust off the big piece of weaponry. ''It is.''

''What?'' Brooke looked up at them innocently, shrugging. ''What is it?''

''That would be a rocket launcher.''

''What?'' The shock and fear hit her and she let go instinctively, the heavy thing falling to the ground and landing right on her foot. ''Ow! Damn it, son of a bitch, motherfucker! Broken foot, _broken foot!_'' Limping, she reached out to steady herself, grabbing onto Sam. ''As if I needed _more_ injuries.''

''You know,'' Dean shook his head and frowned, staring down at a piece of paper in his hands. ''Your father was one weird dude.''

''Why? What's that? Something from his journal?''

''No, it's a credit card bill. The man spent two hundred dollars on a pair of shoes. Who does that?''

''Mostly? Girls. I know I do.'' Grabbing the paper from his hands, she scanned it quickly. ''Oh, and these weren't just any shoes, these were _genuine leather Gucci loafers.''_

Dean blinked. ''I have no idea what that means.''

''Why don't you ask Gianni Versace over there,'' Brooke smirked, cocking her head towards Sam.

The man in question rolled his eyes and lugged a box onto a table. ''I'm laughing on the inside.''

''Glad to hear it.'' A ray of sunlight caught on something over Dean's shoulder and Brooke's eyes lit up as she shoved the credit card bill at his chest and roughly pushed him out of the way, rushing towards the shining object. It was a tin box, probably one of the ones she inherited from her grandmother but it was what was under it that Brooke wanted. Carefully, she moved the tin and ripped a sheet away from a large brown, wooden trunk. Dust flew into the air but she paid no attention to it as she opened the heavy lid and peered inside. ''Ha!'' She grinned triumphantly. ''I found it.''

* * *

Haley glanced into her son's bedroom, smiling softly at the sight of the sleeping boy. He really was adorable. And smart and witty and...so perfect. He was the best parts of her and...

Her smile disappeared and she took one last look at Jamie before quietly shutting the door and disappearing into her bedroom. Groaning, she collapsed on the bed, hiding her face in her hands. She tried telling herself that they wouldn't be here long and no one had to know but she couldn't help but think that something was going to go wrong. Something was going to happen and all of her secrets and lies were going to come out. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and pulled her hair free of the ponytail she had put it in when Jamie decided a food fight would be more fun than baking cookies.

Behind her, someone watched her from the closet, dark eyes glinting as the predator watched her move her hands to the hem of her shirt.

Right before she could tug her shirt over her head, the sound of ringing filtered through the room and her shirt fell back down, hiding her skin from view. With a roll of her eyes, she snatched the phone off the table and clicked it on. ''Hello?''

_''Bokor.''_

''Dean?''

_''No. Paris Hilton.''_

''You're hilarious,'' she deadpanned, raking her hands through her hair. ''So...Bokor.'' She sat down on the edge of the bed, throwing one leg over the other. ''A zombie master. That's what we're dealing with?''

_''Possibly.''_

''Possibly? What are the other possibilities?''

_''Trust me, you don't want to know. Too many to name. We're starting with the zombie theory.''_

''Wait a minute.'' She held up a hand, forgetting for a minutes that he couldn't see her. ''You think there's a zombie master living in Tree Hill? _Tree Hill_?''

_''What page are you on, darlin'? 'Cause I already got there.''_

''What have I told you about the darlin' thing?''

_''Sweetheart, I don't really care what you tell me. I'm going to call you what I want.''_

''Aren't you charming.''

_''Aren't I just? Hey, how's pretty boy? Did you make him feel better?''_

''Oh, shut up.''

_''With all of the things you need to make up for, I'll bet you do a lot of apologizing. Hey, do your knees ever get sore from - ''_

Rage built inside of her and she leapt to her feet, heart hammering against her ribcage in frustration. ''You know, Dean, you can be a real dick when you want to be.''

_''Whatever.''_

''Nice comeback. Do you ever act your - ''

A movement behind her caught her eye and she looked up in time to see the reflection of someone coming at her in the mirror. Whirling around, she screamed and managed to duck just in time to miss getting gutted by a mean looking knife. The phone slipped from her grasp, clattering to the ground. She could still hear Dean's frantic shouts of her name as the intruder got closer. Instinct took over and she opened her mouth to call for Dean, but all she managed to get out was a half cry of his name before a meaty hand covered her mouth, muffling her screams as the stranger kicked the phone away. From the feel of the hand covering her mouth, Haley was sure it was a man. A man who smelled like dirt and death.

A bad feeling started in her gut and she was pretty sure she knew who she was going to see when she turned around and ripped the ski mask from his head. Eyes darkening, she jammed her elbow into his gut and when he stumbled back and dropped his hold on her, she was able to turn and pull the mask off. ''You...''

He lunged at her, tacking her to the hard ground. She yelped and tried to kick him off, but he was too strong. She clawed at him, her nails digging into his skin but he didn't even seem to notice as he effortlessly held her down and put a hand over her mouth again to stifle her screams. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of her high heels that she had hastily thrown on the floor before she picked Jamie up. Fingers reaching desperately, she finally managed to grab it and acted purely on instinct, plunging the heel straight into his back. He howled in pain and fell to the ground.

She finally managed to crawl away from him, gasping for air as she grabbed onto the wall and pushed herself to her feet. Before she could make a run for it, strong arms grabbed her and she found herself being dragged out onto the balcony. Fear gnawed at her insides like a poison and she felt her breath catch but he once again put his hand over her mouth and silenced her cries for help. Her eyes slid over the balcony and her heart stopped in her chest. The pool was right below the balcony.

Of course it was.

Her attacker pushed her back towards the edge, lifting her up onto the railing and she honestly didn't know what she could do to fight him. He was too strong. And then she heard the sound of the door crashing open downstairs and Dean's voice calling her name. She nearly cried with relief. The sound of Dean's voice seemed to throw the strangely silent attacker off and his grip loosened on her briefly as he whirled around, his body beginning to shake when he heard the sound of footsteps. Was he actually getting afraid?

Wind whipped her hair, blowing it away from her face and then Dean was there, bursting into her room with his gun drawn. Oh, thank god.

''Hey!''

A shot went off, loud and ear piercing and the intruder yelped in pain. Fury coated empty and blank eyes and before Dean could even take a step towards him, he had turned around and shoved Haley off the balcony.

''Haley!'' Dean's heart leapt into his throat and he couldn't breathe. He felt dizzy, sick with worry. But it was only for a moment. And then the anger took over. Eyes darkened in anger, he fired off a round of bullets straight into the man's chest and watched as the stranger barely reacted. Snarling and growling like a rabid dog, the man turned and leapt off the balcony, racing away into the bushes and disappearing into the night. Normally, Dean hated when the bad guys got away. Tonight, he could care less.

Behind him, the door opened and Sam and Brooke fell through, anxiously looking around the destroyed room. ''What happened? Where's Haley? Where's the attacker? Was it the same guy? Did you get him?'' Ignoring Brooke's string of questions, Dean pushed past her and raced down the hall, one thought in his head.

_Please let her be all right._

_

* * *

_

Haley landed with a splash. The shock of the cold water took her breath away, that and the fact that she was underwater and trying not to breathe. Despite the dizziness that hit her, she fought against the water and surfaced, coughing and sputtering as she clumsily swam to the edge of the pool. Her eyes quickly darted to the balcony but she couldn't see anything through her stinging, water filled eyes. As she clawed at the edge, trying to pull herself out of the water with her weakened limbs, strong, familiar arms suddenly grabbed her and pulled her out of the pool as she coughed and shivered.

''Haley...'' She heard him murmur and she allowed her weakened body to collapse against his. He held her tighter, hand tangling in her wet hair, relief flooding through him.

''Did you get him?'' She mumbled, breathlessly.

''He got away.''

She tried to control her breathing as she pushed wet hair away from her face, moaning slightly. ''Ow,'' she whimpered, pitifully. ''I did not enjoy that.''

Dean helped her to her unsteady feet, letting her lean against him heavily. ''Are you sure you're okay?''

Instead of answering, she gasped and drew away from him, her eyes widening in terror. ''Oh, god. Jamie!'' Without a backwards glance, she pushed past him and into the house, climbing the stairs two at a time. Her clothes suddenly felt like they weighed a million pounds, her head throbbed painfully and her entire body ached but she didn't care. She raced down the hall and pushed open the door to her son's bedroom. She had no idea what she would find. Would she find her son dead? Was he kidnapped? Gone? Did he vanish? But when she entered, she didn't see anything out of the ordinary. The only thing that was remotely strange was that her son was still sleeping peacefully despite all of the noise. Haley let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and closed her eyes. ''Oh, thank god.''

''Haley?''

She turned at the sound of Brooke's voice and gave her friend a weak smile, stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind her. ''Did the boys go after it?''

''That would be a no. They're too worried about you. I think they're becoming soft in their old ages.'' The brunette smirked and draped a towel around Haley's shaking shoulders. ''Thrown off a balcony, huh?''

''Kinda.''

''Makes me feel like I got lucky.''

* * *

''Who the hell is this guy?'' Haley asked, desperation clouding her voice as she paced the room. ''And why is he so mad at me? What did I do?'' Dry and warm, but still shaking, she was well past angry and into completely pissed off territory.

''Besides bury him in a shallow grave on the outskirts of nowhere?'' Dean asked dryly, folding his arms across his chest.

''Brooke's the one that offed him,'' Haley mumbled, under her breath.

''I heard that.''

Tired and worn, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep, Haley fell onto the couch, pinching the bridge of her nose. ''My head hurts.''

''I looked through the most wanted list,'' Sam piped up from his spot next to Brooke, who currently had her arm in his and was refusing to let him go anywhere. ''But nothing came up. I ran a search through Tree Hill's police records and got less than nothing so either this guy was a first time offender or...''

''Or he had never been caught before,'' Dean finished easily. ''You girls have an idea who this Bokor bad ass could be? Any shady figures in Tree Hill?''

''You mean besides you two?'' Haley sneered.

''That's...That's funny. You're hilarious. I'm serious, Haley! This guy beat the shit out of Brooke and threw you off a balcony. A balcony, Haley!''

''I landed in the pool,'' she shrugged.

''Listen to me, you frustrating woman,'' he hissed, taking a step towards her. ''He attacked you in your own fucking house with your kid sleeping in the next fucking room. Now would be the time to get angry.''

She got angry. Standing, she closed the distance between them and slapped him. Hard. The smack echoed throughout the room and silence fell as her eyes flickered with rage. ''I know that, Dean! I know what happened, I was there remember? And I am fucking angry, okay? Like you said; he attacked me in my house with _my_ kid sleeping in the next room. So yeah, I want him dead. Deader than he already is. You and your panic are not helping.'' Arching an eyebrow, she shot him a death glare and then had to swallow hard because the look he was giving her was dark and intense but...not exactly _angry._ ''There,'' she spat out. ''Did I get angry enough for you?''

The thick silence that hit and hung heavy in the air was only broken when the phone rang and shattered the quiet. Shaking her head, Haley stepped past Dean, missing the sigh that escaped his lips or the way the anger seemed to deflate from his eyes. She snatched the phone off the wall, answering it with an irritated, ''What?''

_''Um...is this Haley James-Scott?''_

''Yes, this is her.''

_''Nathan Scott's wife?''_

''Yeah.'' She sighed heavily and pushed dark, damp hair out of her eyes. God, what had he done now? ''Why? What happened? Is he okay?''

_''Mrs. Scott, your husband's been in an accident...''_

_

* * *

_

_tomorrow you'll be thinking to yourself  
yeah, where did it all go wrong?  
but the list goes on and on  
truth be told i miss you  
_**-all american rejects, **_**gives you hell**_

**end chapter three**


End file.
